Itami no Melody
by Shinigami Yumi
Summary: KXTouma. Yuki & Shuuichi go on a honeymoon. Touma gets depressed, attempts suicide, but K intervenes. I don't know when this will be continued, but if it does, it'll be completely rewritten.
1. Itami no MelodyPrologue

Prologue  
  
Mechanical beeps. Dripping liquid. Bright, so bright. Where is that glare coming from? I force my eyes open only to be greeted by a sharp searing pain. White light. Oh, _God_. That hurt. My head pounds; the sound of liquid dripping in the background seems loud, so loud. Uh. I squeeze my eyes shut, moaning softly. I lift my hand to press my fingers to my forehead. Wires. What? I struggle to sit up. I feel tired, so tired. What's with the lethargy? I hold still; the heavy metal band playing in my head seems to bow out. I open my eyes more slowly this time, my hand automatically moving to shield them from the light glaring down at me. White walls, white sheets. The hospital, my brain informs me before I even cared to ask. Hospital? Whatever for? Why am I here? I lift my other hand to pull the blanket off and stop short. My wrist. It's bandaged. I stare at it, the memories returning in a flood. The party. Eiri. Shuuichi.  
  
"I'm going away," he had said.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"A week. Maybe two."  
  
"I see. You need the holiday. I'm gratified. You don't usually inform me before you go on vacation, Eiri-san."  
  
"Don't flatter yourself, Seguchi. I'm telling you because Shuuichi's going with me. Bad Luck will be missing its vocalist for a while."  
  
"Shuuichi?"  
  
"Yeah, we've decided to go on a honeymoon."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The world had pretty much shattered then. A honeymoon. A honeymoon. His voice still rings in my ears. They're going on a honeymoon. Eiri and Shuuichi on a honeymoon. Eiri and Shuuichi together. Eiri doesn't want me. He doesn't love me. He doesn't love me. He doesn't love me. He never did. I hold my head; warm tears begin to flow. He never loved me.  
  
No, don't. Eiri, don't... Please stop.  
  
He never loved me.  
  
Don't leave me, Eiri. I love you; don't go away.  
  
He never loved me.  
  
Stop! I don't want to hear it! I cover my ears with my hands. I don't. Please... Don't leave me here...  
  
He never loved me.  
  
I gave you everything! What more do you want, Eiri? What does he have that I don't? What can he give you that I can't?  
  
He never loved me.  
  
No. Stop! Please. Stop it.  
  
He never loved me.  
  
No!  
  
Never loved me. Never loved me. Never loved me. Never loved me. _NEVER_.  
  
NO!!!  
  
"AAAHHH.!!!!!!!!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Shadows of Silence  
presents  
  
A Gravitation fanfiction  
  
Itami no Melody (Melody of Pain)©  
~by Shinigami Yumi~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Touma."  
  
The NG president's eyes fluttered open at the sound of a woman's voice calling his name. Aqua eyes met brown ones and recognition sank in instantly.  
  
"Mika-san."  
  
He watched as his wife leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, his head still heavy from the depressants the doctors injected into him.  
  
~'NG shachou attempts suicide twice'. What an impressive headline. Great publicity for Nittle Grasper, I'm sure,~ he scoffed silently.  
  
"It's good to know that some degree of coherent thought still exists in that head of yours," Mika said suddenly, interrupting his train of thought.  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"I said that it's comforting to know that you're not insane. Still, you wouldn't happen to consider suicide a very mentally stable thing to do, would you?" she replied flatly.  
  
Touma sighed. "No, I guess it isn't," he admitted quietly.  
  
In his mind, he could still see himself slitting his wrist with a shard of the broken wine glass, could still see the doctors holding him back as he tried to jump out the hospital window.  
  
"I guess we could call that progress, hm?"  
  
He merely blinked in response.  
  
"Anyway, I brought the divorce papers for you to sign."  
  
"Divorce?" His eyes widened. "Why?"  
  
"Why? Touma, we both know that the one you love is not me. You love Eiri. Even I'm not blind or deaf enough to ignore that. Why torture yourself?" she paused. "I've already moved out of the house," she added after a moment of thought.  
  
"I." His voice died in his throat. He didn't know what to say to that.  
  
Mika stood up. "So sign it. I'm already done with it, so it can go straight to the lawyers when you've finished with it." She walked to the door. "Goodbye. Rest well," she said before stepping out and shutting the door behind her.  
  
Touma sighed. The love of his life leaves him for a fluffy pink airhead and his wife decides to divorce him. He was just getting so good at messing his life up, wasn't he? He pulled the blanket tighter around himself and allowed his mind to wander. Shortly, he felt sleep beginning to call again and he readily succumbed. Perhaps he'd feel better when he woke up. 


	2. Part One

PART ONE  
  
Tires screeched in protest as K swerved violently into a parking lot at Tokyo General Hospital. He didn't know why he even bothered to come seeing as his presence probably wasn't welcome. He leaned back and shut his eyes. Somehow, the idea that Seguchi Touma would attempt suicide twice seemed both unnerving and ridiculous at once. And now that he was here. Why was he here, anyway? It wasn't as if Seguchi's committing suicide was any of his business. It was common knowledge that he had been obsessed with Yuki Eiri from the very start. But to commit suicide over him going on a honeymoon with Shuuichi. It would have seemed more like the keyboardist to attempt homicide on Bad Luck's vocalist than to try taking his own life. After all, Seguchi Touma _is_ a manipulative snake in the grass and considering him being the person in question. K didn't think that he would hesitate to try murdering Shuuichi. But suicide. Well, far too late to have considered it a possibility, wasn't it? The American decided to push the thoughts away as he opened the car door and climbed out, slamming it back shut with a jarring force. Locking his car, he proceeded to the elevator and took it to the ground floor. On the ground floor, he approached the reception desk. Seguchi Touma was on the fifteenth floor, apparently. Another ride on the elevator in order, then. It was deathly silent on the fifteenth floor, like a scene from some horror movie he had watched back when he was in New York. The cold blasts of air from the air-conditioning only served to add to the already eerie atmosphere of the long corridor as he made his way towards ward 1521. He paused outside the door, the question from earlier returning to haunt him like a ghost in his mind. Why was he here? What reason did he have to visit the NG president lying in the room beyond? He shrugged and pushed the door open quietly. The keyboardist was lying on his side with the blanket wrapped snugly around him, breathing deep and even in sleep as Bad Luck's manager stepped into the ward. A few locks of his wispy platinum blonde hair obscured his eyes, his slender perfectly manicured fingers curled slightly, fingertips resting lightly on the pillow. Funny how sleep can make even the most ruthless people appear so much more gentle, K observed. There was none of the determined ruthlessness familiar to the NG president's features. The absence of the calculating look made his eyes seem almost gentle while the lack of the familiar cunning manipulative smirk seemed to soften his mouth. As it was, he didn't look thirty-two and the calm serenity made him appear all the more youthful. The absence of the put-upon air of false cheerfulness even made him seem more human. It was a rare sight indeed and the American was happy to indulge. As he continued his observation of his sleeping employer, Touma stirred. His eyes fluttered open. He blinked and sat up slowly.  
  
"Mister K," he acknowledged softly. "Why are you here?"  
  
Why was he here? Good question. Why _was_ he here? What made him decide to come visiting? "Oh, just making sure that I'll be getting my paycheque this month," he replied nonchalantly.  
  
The keyboardist cast him a Look and coldly replied, "Well, as you can see, I'm very much alive, no thanks to you and I assure you that I pay all my employees consistently and on time. Is there anything else?"  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. You've been scheduled to see a psychotherapist twice a week every week until you are diagnosed mentally stable and while you are resting and recovering, I'll be taking over the management of the company," the former secret agent announced matter-of- factly.  
  
Touma Looked at him. "I am NOT crazy, Mister K."  
  
"I never said that I was the one making the arrangements. I know you're not crazy; at least not really. Go convince the doctor," K replied calmly.  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
"Then leave. To quote _someone_, I need to rest and recover."  
  
K turned and reached for the doorknob and paused, hesitating. "By the way, did anyone ever tell you that you should sleep more?"  
  
Another Look. "No. Whatever for, may I ask?"  
  
"Nothing really. Just that you look much better asleep," he answered easily.  
  
"Unless you haven't noticed, your opinion is utterly insignificant as far as where I am concerned and how I look like to you really doesn't rank among the list of things I'm concerned about."  
  
"And Yuki Eiri does? His opinion regarding everything is significant even if it means being something that you're not?" K retorted without turning around. He couldn't really help himself; the words spilled forth before he could reconsider them.  
  
There was a long pause. Finally, Touma replied in a voice that clearly told K of his waning self-control, "I'm tired. Leave me. I'm going back to sleep."  
  
"So sleep. It might help with avoiding the truth to some extent. Just remember that you can run from it but you can never hide. Denial isn't going to help."  
  
"Shut up, K," he snapped, dropping the honorific in his frustration. "Just shut up. Shut up and leave me alone."  
  
Touma asked him to shut up. Really, he must be feeling rather out of sorts today to actually settle for such a crude phrase. Or it was more likely to be the tension the subject was creating. "Right, alone. Truly alone. Go on denying it. Keep on running." He paused. "Rest well, Seguchi. Goodbye." He opened the door and stepped out. "Only you can save yourself," he added after a moment's consideration and pulls the door shut behind him.  
  
The NG president was left alone in the ward that suddenly seemed so empty, staring at the white wall opposite him. 'His opinion regarding everything is significant even if it means being something that you're not?' he repeated mentally. Something that he wasn't. Then, what was he? His vision blurred. 'Alone. Truly alone.' He hated to admit it; K was right. He was alone, so alone. A teardrop slowly made it's way down his cheek. Alone. He burst into tears and lay back down, suddenly feeling completely exhausted. He was all alone. Touma buried his face in his pillow and cried himself back to sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
Another dumb psychotherapy session. No matter what he said, they simply would not believe that he was perfectly sane. Touma sighed, stepping into his office. One more day of staying at home and 'resting' and he'd probably really go mad and try to kill himself again. He paused in thought as he sat down wearily on his chair. Suicide. Did he really have the strength to try it a third time? He gazed at the scar on his left wrist. It was still red. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Eiri. Before he could even continue along that depressing train of thought, the door burst open and K walked in briskly. He didn't seem particularly pleased. Touma leaned forward and rested his chin on the back of his hands, giving Bad Luck's manager an amused look.  
  
"Yes, Mister K?" he asked brightly.  
  
"You are supposed to be recuperating, Seguchi," K replied sternly, leaning forward to grip the edge of the table.  
  
He stood up. "I'm fine, Mister K. As you can see, I am perfectly sane no matter what the doctor says and I am coming to work whether you like it or not," he said with a cheery smile.  
  
"And suicide is considered sane? Right. Perhaps it is. In the asylum, that is."  
  
Anger quickly replaced amusement and Touma circled the table slowly, fist clenched and trembling with fury to stand directly in front of K. "Shut up. It's none of your business what I do with my life."  
  
"Your life isn't yours to take," the American replied calmly.  
  
"Just shut up."  
  
The former secret agent shoved a struggling Touma against the wall and held him still. He leaned closer. Touma picked up the faint scent of his cologne and it made him feel light-headed. "And if I refuse?" K asked, a sinister tone lacing his voice.  
  
"Then I might just have to sue you for the infringement and violation of human rights, Mister K." He relaxed and stopped struggling.  
  
K raised an eyebrow. "Human rights? Why, that's new. I never knew they existed in your dictionary, Seguchi." He released Touma.  
  
Touma adjusted his clothes. "Well, that's not surprising. You don't really know me at all." He turned away.  
  
"Oh? Well, let's see. You're obsessively in love with your brother-in-law, or soon to be ex-brother-in-law. You are ruthless in your ways of keeping him to yourself. You are manipulative, cunning, and determined. You'd do anything to get what you or Yuki Eiri wants." K began, counting off his points on his fingers.  
  
Touma could feel his blood temperature rising.  
  
".You are jealous of Shuuichi because Yuki Eiri loves him like he will never love you and hence you go out of your way to make his life a living hell." the American continued.  
  
Touma clenched his fists. K had no right, no right to be saying this. ~Shut up, K; just shut up.~  
  
".It depresses you greatly that they are going on a honeymoon together."  
  
~Shut up! I don't want to hear it! You have no right to tell me about myself! You don't know me that well!~  
  
".And so you commit suicide because it has dashed your last hope of pulling Yuki Eiri to your side."  
  
"SHUT UP!!!" Touma reached up to slap K before he knew what he was doing but the American easily grabbed his hand and gripped his wrist tightly. "Hanase!" he shouted, struggling to wrench his hand free of K's iron grip. The other man obediently released his hand and he let it fall to his side. The keyboardist lifted his other hand to point a slender finger at the former secret agent who merely raised an eyebrow. "You! You have no right to tell me about myself!"  
  
"May I remind you in case you've forgotten; you were the one that launched into the topic," K put in easily.  
  
If the NG president noticed the other man's statement, he chose to ignore it. "You don't know me well enough!! Who are you to tell me why I do what I do?! What gives you the audacity to think that you know me more than even that redundant psychotherapist at the hospital?!! YOU DON'T KNOW ME!!! Hell, you probably don't even know what my favourite wine is!!"  
  
"Merlot, German Merlot. You like German wines because they're sweeter than most other wines."[1]  
  
Touma chose to disregard K's calm statement although it was absolutely correct. "Who do you think you are, interfering with my life?! Get out!! Get out!! Get." he paused in midsentence. The room seemed to tilt and spin. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingertips to his forehead. He vaguely heard K asking if he was alright, but it seemed to come from a great distance away. A floating sensation followed as he seemed to lose all sense of equilibrium and he fell forward, losing consciousness, into the American's waiting arms, the other man having stepped forward to catch him.  
  
* * *  
  
Touma awoke staring into large bright blue eyes. The familiar scent of the mattress and pillow told him that it was his room he was in. He blinked slowly, his observer blinked twice.  
  
"Touma?" a familiar voice asked.  
  
"Ryuuichi-san," was all he could come up with.  
  
Tears filled the singer's eyes and he leapt on to the blonde, knocking the air out of his lungs. "Tou-chan!" he exclaimed. "Yokatta." Nittle Grasper's vocalist hugged the other man tightly, almost choking him in the process. "Tou-chan mezameta'n da."  
  
"Boku wa heiki desu yo. Daijoubu desu ne," he reassured the childish brunette. [2]  
  
"Kumagorou mo shinpai shite no ni." Ryuuichi replied, holding up his pink bunny. "Hontou ni daijoubu?  
  
"Hai... Hontou yo."  
  
"Okay..." He pauses. "Ah, sou da! K-san told Ryuuichi to tell Tou-chan what the doctor told K-san."  
  
"Mister K?" ~Doctor? What happened?~ the keyboardist wondered.  
  
"Mm!"  
  
"So, what did he say?" ~Oh, right. I passed out. K probably sent me home and called the doctor before getting Ryuuichi to keep an eye on me,~ he thought, wondering why the American was suddenly being so nice. ~Probably feeling guilty for making me scream.~ he mused.  
  
"Doctor said that Tou-chan's body is still weak. No stress for Tou-chan. Tou-chan must rest at home for the rest of the week." The singer looked up at Touma. "Yakusoku suru?" He sticks out little finger.  
  
~Is he psychic or what?~ Touma wondered, already dreading the idea of spending an entire week alone at home. On the other hand. It was better than an hour of Ryuuichi's whining. He wagged the other man's little finger with his own. "Hai, yakusoku suru yo..." he sighed resignedly.  
  
The brunette grinned. "You fainted from low blood pressure. There's some iron pills on the table outside."  
  
The keyboardist nodded.  
  
"Sore ja! Ryuuichi's got to go. Tatsuha-kun's been bugging me to autograph his CD for an entire month. He'll shriek if I don't turn up." He jumped off the bed. "Bye-bye!!!" He skipped out the door, leaving Touma alone in the empty room.  
  
END PART ONE  
  
[1] I made this up. Touma likes wine, that's true and it's also true that German wines tend to be sweeter than their foreign counterparts. However, what kind Touma likes is anybody's guess. The only thing I know without a doubt is that he likes Yuki Eiri to a unique degree. (Winks) ^_  
  
[2] For all fans of Ryuuichi, this was meant to be a complimentary statement. Don't take it the wrong way. 


	3. Part Two

Author's note: Please review and tell me what you think 'coz I  
think that some of the characters are a bit OOC. ( Anyway, ~.~  
stands for Touma's thoughts and /./ denotes K's. If there are any  
other symbols, I'll explain later. I also think some parts are a  
bit rushed and anyway I probably suck at this, so gomen. (bows  
apologetically) By the way, I don't own Gravitation (but I think  
that's pretty obvious). Damn, God knows I'd be rich if I did. And  
that disclaimer applies to the entire fic. Surely I don't have to  
say the same thing 1000 times just to keep from being sued (not  
that I have any money anyway). Well, sit tight and I hope you  
enjoy this. (big hopeful watery puppy dog eyes) Hehe.  
(sweatdrops)  
  
PART TWO  
  
Somewhere in the background, an alarm clock rang. The slender blonde curled up snugly in wine-coloured silk sheets reached out blindly to shut it off. His attempt to return to sleep didn't work though. The sun's rays insistently filtered in through the gap between the curtains and he sat up to cast a baleful glare in its direction. A bleary gaze focused on a clock on the bedside table. Nine o'clock. Gods. He let himself flop back gracelessly to rest his head on the pillow. Somewhere at the back of his mind he wondered. What was the point of getting up so early anyway? With Ryuuichi having imposed house arrest on him, there wasn't really anything for him to do. He had spent the waking hours of the past few days working on a new song for Nittle Grasper. When he wasn't doing that, he would be reading, cooking, eating, practising the keyboard, or gardening. And it was boring. Boredom would probably kill him -if he didn't decide to take his own life first, and he smirked dryly at the thought- if he didn't go out and do something else with his time. He decided that he'd tell Ryuuichi about that when the singer dropped by later.  
  
Ryuuichi dropped by at random times of each day. Whether it was out of concern or because he thought his friend might be lonely or just to check on Touma and make sure he held true to his promise, he didn't know. On the other hand, he didn't think he cared either. There were only two days left of the seven he had promised he'd stay home. Forty-eight hours and he could return to some degree of normality in his life; he could go back to work. He wasn't a workaholic but at the very least, working was better than staying home with no one for company and nothing interesting to do. He felt sleep calling him again, whispering softly from the dark recesses of his mind, and he readily succumbed. He rolled over and wrapped the blanket tighter around his body, hoping that the next time he awoke, it would at least be in the late afternoon. After all that he had been through, he felt that that was the very least God could grant him.  
  
* * *  
  
Thursday. The sun was far in the west as the NG president glided through the water in one of the several large pools at the exclusive club nearby that he was a member of. The original reason he had joined this club had been because Eiri was a member. The image of his 'little brother' began to form in his mind with a hazy dash of pink close by and Seguchi Touma quickly squished the thought. He had obtained Ryuuichi's permission yesterday to go swimming and shopping. Ryuuichi had reluctantly but cheerfully agreed to that as long as he didn't go within a five-mile radius of the NG Productions building. He surfaced smoothly. Climbing out the far side of the pool, he headed off to the men's showering area. Taking a quick shower, he proceeded to soak in the steam bath. Approximately half an hour later, he stood before a mirror, drying his hair. He then dressed himself and dabbed on his cologne before grabbing his belongings from the locker and stepping out on to the poolside terrace.  
The blonde keyboardist cast a glance at the sun setting in the horizon. The bluish-grey evening sky was tinted with streaks of orange and crimson. A cool breeze blew gently, making several locks of his wispy platinum blonde hair fly into his face, obscuring his eyes. He slid his eyes shut and just stood there for a few moments, taking in the pleasant atmosphere. Touma sighed contentedly and opened his eyes. As he turned to go, something caught his eye. He felt his heart skip a beat and his breath hitched in his throat. Eiri was at one side of one of the pools, amber eyes gazing up at the sky as if lost in thought. The water lapped gently against his chest, against what must be silky smooth skin. He swallowed hard; he felt hot suddenly. Oh, how he longed to touch it, to trail his fingertips up and down and explore every inch of that soft skin.  
Touma shook his head a little to clear it of the vivid imagery that was threatening to swallow him whole and quickly averted his gaze slightly. His heart was beating at more than twice its normal rate and he absently wondered why he wasn't already having cardiac arrest. He took a deep breath to calm himself and began walking towards him. He had barely taken three steps when something made him stop dead in his tracks. From where he stood, the keyboardist watched as Bad Luck's vocalist walked over to the novelist and handed him one of the paper cups in his hand. Shuuichi then perched at the edge of the pool beside his lover and began babbling enthusiastically as usual, absently dangling his legs carelessly in the water. Suddenly, Eiri whirled around like poetry in motion, taking the drink from Shuuichi and placing it on the ground some distance away. He grabbed the boy's wrist and tugged the singer into the water with him before enveloping him in a crushing embrace and tilting his own head down to press his lips to Shuuichi's.  
  
Touma felt his blood run cold. Hot bile rose in his throat. It was hard to breathe. For some reason, his vision blurred. The cold lump that was his heart had plummeted into the pit of his stomach where burning acid was eating painfully at it.  
  
~Ouch.~ ~That *hurt*.~ ~So much.~ ~I think I'm gonna be sick.~ ~Oh, God.~  
  
Touma turned tail and took off running as fast as his legs could carry him, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill forth. _God_, he felt his soul cry out as it shattered like crystal. Somehow, he made it back to his car. He climbed in, started it and drove off. He didn't care if he was driving like a maniac or a madman. Perhaps an accident would pleasantly throw him into a coma or the valley of death where his brain couldn't keep flashing the scene from just two minutes ago before his eyes. He wasn't even concentrating on the dark asphalt ahead or even on where he was going. He could no longer hold back the tears that were now streaming down his cheeks. He didn't even think he cared anymore. He had known long before that they were together, but to actually _see_ them kissing. He had had no idea how harshly it could rip at his heart. Somehow, he actually made it home. He drove up the driveway and brought the car to a screeching halt. The image flashed in his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut and held his head, willing it to go away.  
  
~Go away.~ Eiri kissing Shuuichi at the pool. ~I said, go away.~ Eiri kissing Shuuichi. ~GO AWAY!!~ Eiri tilting Shuuichi's chin up. ~Stop it.~ His mouth hovering oh-so-close to Shuuichi's. ~I said, stop it!~ Eiri pressing his lips to Shuuichi's. ~Please stop.~ His mouth moving roughly over the singer's. ~No! Stop it! Stop it!! STOP IT!!~ Eiri kissing Shuuichi. Eiri kissing Shuuichi. Eiri kissing Shuuichi. ~NO!!!~ "Aaaahhhh!!!!!"  
  
Touma screamed his throat hoarse. The world began to reel and spin. His vision clouded and he gratefully succumbed to the bliss of the ensuing darkness.  
  
* * *  
  
The radio was blaring loudly as the white convertible sped down the highway at 10 pm. The voice was male, English; and K was quite happy to hear some music from his homeland once in a while. He definitely had a valid reason for visiting Seguchi Touma this time and at this hour since the next day was the last of the leave that Ryuuichi had pretty much forced the NG president to take. He had brought Bad Luck's latest video clip collection, which had just returned from the editor's, for his employer to check. Since Ryuuichi had insistently placed the keyboardist under house arrest as well, K didn't think he would mind viewing the tape a day earlier. The man probably didn't have much else to do anyway.  
K pulled over in front of the palatial mansion that was the Seguchi residence and carelessly turned off the ignition without even bothering to switch the radio off. He grinned, grabbing the tape and clambering out of the car to walk up to the front door. Glancing up at the house, he noted that there was only one room with the lights on and absently wondered why the NG president wanted to live alone in a house this large. Touma was probably preparing for bed then, he decided. An image of the slender blonde undressing began to form in his mind and he quickly squished the thought, loathing the way the very idea made him hot between the legs. He popped a mint into his mouth and was about to knock when he froze. The door was unlocked. What if Touma. He quickly pulled out his favourite magnum and switched to firing mode. Silently, he crept into the still darkness of the mansion, trying hard to ignore the sinking feeling in the depths of his stomach. He quietly climbed up the stairs, straining his ears for any sign of movement. The door was ajar, light streaming out into the pitch dark of the corridor. K placed his back to the wall beside the doorframe and peered in. He heaved a sigh of relief and switched his magnum back to non-firing, almost regretting the loss of a chance to use it; the keyboardist was sitting at the edge of the king-sized bed. His relief didn't last.  
  
"Yo, Seguchi." he called, stepping into view.  
  
The willowy blonde turned slowly to face him, eyes rising to meet his own. His clear aqua eyes were bloodshot. There was a wine glass on the floor a small distance away and the room reeked of double bourbon. He held a knife in his right hand and his left wrist was upturned to face him. Suddenly, he leaped to his feet and swiftly backed away to the other end of the room, the knife now hovering dangerously close to the pale flesh of his wrist.  
  
"Seguchi."  
  
"Stop! Don't come one step closer!"  
  
"Seguchi, what do you think you're doing?" the American demanded, stepping forward.  
  
"Stay away from me! If you come any closer, I'll slit my wrist right here!" he yells hysterically, pressing the knife lightly against his wrist.  
  
The former secret agent chose to ignore the warning and stepped forward, closing the distance between them with a mere three strides. He grabbed a wrist in each hand and forcefully pulled the other man's hands apart without giving him an opportunity to react. He didn't think that the keyboardist really had the strength to attempt suicide a third time anyway.  
  
"Let me go! Hanase! Hanase!! Hanase!!!" the smaller man screeched hysterically, struggling hard against the American.  
  
"Touma, stop it! Get a grip on yourself!!" K shouted, still effortlessly keeping the other's wrists apart.  
  
"Hanase!"  
  
"STOP IT!!"  
  
"Hanase. Hanase yo." Touma's struggles ceased suddenly and he leaned forward to rest his forehead on K's chest. He felt tired, so tired. The sudden burst of strength that possessed him a moment ago left as quickly as it came, leaving him even more exhausted. Sobs racked his body, but no tears came. He had no tears left to cry; his soul was a desert. K tightened the grip on his wrist sharply and he just let the knife fall to the floor. For what seemed like an eternity, they simply remained that way, K having moved his hands to rest on his arms instead. A while later, Touma straightened and took a step back. K didn't try to stop him. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm alright now. I don't know what came over me." He turned away.  
  
K remained silent for a moment. Finally he said, "It's okay. Look, why don't you just go to bed now. You look like shit."  
  
"I know," he replied, staggering over to the bed. He climbed in and slipped beneath the wine-red silk sheets before looking up. "Why are you here?"  
  
/Why am I here.? Oh, the tape./ "Never mind, it can wait. Just take a chill pill and go to sleep, why don't you? I'll probably drop by about it again tomorrow morning, okay?"  
  
The slender blonde nodded.  
  
"See ya." Bad Luck's manager walked to the door and proceeded to switch the lights off.  
  
"Wait."  
  
His hand paused on its way to the light switch. He turned. "Yeah?"  
  
Touma hesitated a long time. "Stay," he said at last, his eyes rising to look K in the face.  
  
K thought his ears were playing tricks on him. "What?" His voice came out as a hoarse whisper and he could hear the incredulous disbelief lacing it.  
  
The NG president's eyes never left the American's face. "I said, stay." A long pause. "Stay. with me." Another long pause; he shifted his gaze to meet K's. "Please."  
  
It was a plea turned into a request turned into a quiet command, a command that the former secret agent found himself at a loss as to whether or not to obey. Touma lifted the covers in silent invitation and K found himself walking back to the bed even as his mind ran rampant with protests. He slipped into bed beside the keyboardist, switching off the lights and turning to face him. The only illumination in the room now came from the single scented candle standing on the dressing table not too far away. In the soft dim light, K gazed silently at his employer's tear-stained visage. He reached out before he could stop himself; his fingertips found Touma's cheek and he trailed them along the tear-stains before cupping slender blonde's face in his palm. Touma slowly closed his eyes. The way he leaned into the touch was almost frightening to K as was the way he suddenly inched closer and the warmth forming in the pit of K's stomach.  
  
"Why?" K whispered almost gently in question. /Why does this scare me so?/  
  
Touma opened bloodshot eyes slowly but he didn't look directly at K. "I. Just. Don't want to be alone right now, alright?" he whispered back hoarsely.  
  
K didn't reply; he just allowed his thumb to brush the other man's lips. He seemed so delicate, so fragile, so. Vulnerable. He looked up at the American and let his eyes slide shut. K moved without thinking; he tilted the other's chin up and brushed his lips lightly against Touma's, whose mouth opened immediately to him. He tentatively slid his tongue in, moving his mouth slowly and encouragingly over the willowy blonde's. He tasted good even through the alcohol; the former secret agent gently plundered the sweet recesses of his mouth before moving the kiss to his throat. Touma tilted his head back to give the American better access. Shortly, he opened his eyes and placed his hands on K's jaw, guiding him back to his mouth. This time, he slipped his tongue into the American's mouth, licking at the lingering traces of peppermint that remained. He had never been kissed that way before, least of all by a man, and he clung to it with a sort of urgent desperation that Bad Luck's manager found both captivating and unnerving at once. One kiss ended to be picked up by another and Touma seemed to lose himself. Their tongues intertwined, vying for dominance, a battle which K won shortly and he quickly pressed his tongue back into the NG president's mouth. The slender blonde did not resist, allowing the gun toting Caucasian to plunder and explore his mouth with a wild sense of abandon.  
  
~Tell me you want me. Say it and I'll give myself willingly.~ He draped an arm over K's head, keeping it in place.  
  
/I'm glad; this will merely be a vague memory in the morning. You'd probably hate me if you remembered. You would despise the very memory of it./ One hand moved to rest on the willowy blonde's hip, the other pulling him close and cradling his head.  
  
~Don't stop. I want. No, I _need_ to feel wanted, needed.~ Touma squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back to expose more skin as K once again moved to his throat. "K." he whispered, voice pleading. ~I need to know that there's hope. Tell me you want me, K, say that you need me. I just. need to hear it, please.~ He reached out instinctively.  
  
/Don't. It scares me that I don't want to stop./ All of a sudden, K froze, panic rising in his chest. He swiftly grasped the keyboardist's wrist even as perfectly manicured fingers undid the first button of his shirt. "Don't," he murmured breathlessly.  
  
The moment hung in eternity as Touma slowly opened his eyes. Their gazes met and held. He gave the American a hurt look that made K almost wish he'd let the other continue. "Why?" The question was a quivering whisper.  
  
K looked away, refusing to look into to those clear aqua orbs, not wanting to see the pain in them. /Don't look at me like that./ "Because." /Because you'll regret it and I don't want that./ /Because you're just using me and the very thought makes my blood run cold./ /Because you'd be thinking of a certain novelist even as I'm taking you to the height of passion./ /Because the very idea makes me sick to the stomach and I know that this isn't really what you want./ He squeezed his eyes shut. When he spoke, his voice was calm and controlled. "Because you're drunk and you're not thinking clearly and if you were, this would not be what you want."  
  
~Even when I offer myself up willingly, it is not enough. What is it that I lack? What do you want that I don't possess? First Eiri, now K. What don't I have? What's wrong with me?~ He closed his eyes in an effort to conceal the pain that was tearing him apart inside and turned away from K. Forcing his voice to sound bland and emotionless, he replied, "Very well, then; goodnight."  
  
K wrapped his arms around the slender blonde, hating the way the other seemed to cringe at his touch, and buried his face in Touma's hair. On one hand, Touma felt his skin crawl at the closeness; on the other, the former secret agent's embrace was warm and comforting. K inhaled the sweet scent of Touma's hair and pressed a feather-light kiss to the nape of his neck; Touma flinched. It was possible to run out of tears, he noted. If he had any tears left to cry, he would have wept. He wasn't wanted; not even by Eiri, not even by K, not even by anybody. Was there really any point in living anymore? Sleep beckoned to him once more and he was more than happy to oblige. Behind him, K tightened his embrace and followed suit a moment later.  
  
END PART TWO 


End file.
